Certainty and Doubt

     Can you tell which blogs are the ones where I decide what to write and what my AP English teacher decides what I write?  If not, you're not paying much attention.
     William Lyon Phelps said, "If you develop the absolute sense of certainty that powerful beliefs provide, then you can get yourself to accomplish virtually anything, including those things that other people are certain are impossible."  Basically, if you believe it enough, you can do it.
     Bertrand Russell also said, "I think we ought always to entertain our opinions with some measure of doubt.  I shouldn't wish people dogmatically to believe any philosophy, not even mine."  Basically, don't be afraid to admit you could be wrong.
     Here we have two quotes, both by rather intelligent writers and social critics, which state the most basic examples of what is certainty and what is doubt.  What is the difference?  More importantly, what is their relationship?  Can you have certainty but also doubt at the same time?
     You know what I think?  Whether you care or not, I'm going to tell you.
     I think that both have their place in the world and in our lives, but their extremes are very different.  I also don't think that doubt should always be regarded as negative (though it should usually be), nor do I think that certainty should always be regarded as positive (though it should usually be).  Confused yet?  Excellent.
     Certainty is feeling so strongly about something being true (or not true) that it's nearly impossible to dissuade you.  It would take a great amount of reasoning and logic to even begin to wear down on that certainty.  But is certainty the same thing as knowledge?  Well, according to the Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy, "certainty is either the highest form of knowledge or is the only epistemic property superior to knowledge."
     Doubt is wondering whether something is true or not--it is not knowing for sure that something isn't true.  Doubt can often be compared to a seed, which starts out small and seemingly insignificant but can steadily grow into something much bigger.  Doubt can often be extinguished if led to the right sources and with earnest desire to find out the truth, but if left to itself, can become suffocating.
     So what did I mean by the extremes are different?  Well, the most negative part of certainty is having a lot, and the negative part of doubt is a little.  How does that work, you ask?
     Mind you, I'm not a philosopher, and I'm not full-on studying certainty and doubt.  That's my disclaimer for today.
     See, too much certainty can lead to stubbornness, when the real result of certainty should be passion.  One girl in my eighth grade history class once said, "I don't see what the problem with being stubborn is.  Isn't being stubborn about something and being passionate about something the same thing?"  No.  As another girl replied to this one, "The difference between being stubborn and being passionate is that when you're passionate about something, you're willing to listen to other people's views and contribute them to your own, but when you're stubborn, you refuse to listen to what other people have to say and you're very set in believing that you are right."   And too much doubt makes you unable to make decisions and consistently skeptical.
     Just some food for thought.
     I hope your day is as awesome as you.

Cornell Notes

     There are few things in life that drive me absolutely crazy.  I'm not saying that things don't annoy me, but there's a significant difference between something being annoying and something driving you crazy.  Annoying things put you in a bad mood and steadily fade into the background.  When something drives you crazy, it's a nettling, persistent feeling that won't go away until the thing driving you crazy goes away.

     I'm sure you must be thinking, "Oh, Odessa, you're such a lovely person though.  What could there possibly be that drives you crazy?"  You're about to find out one of them.  (This is probably the first in a series of rants, just so you're aware.)

     Cornell notes are flipping awful.  If you don't know what Cornell notes are, enjoy the blissful peace bestowed upon you.  Look them up yourself because I don't want to explain them.

     Now, Cornell notes in and of themselves aren't necessarily evil.  I certainly wish they'd never been created, but the idea isn't bad.  One of my biggest problems with them is that they have too much.  You have an essential question, you have the notes, you have the cues/questions, you have a reflection.  I'm sorry, but when did taking notes turn into brainstorming an essay?

     And the teachers who want us to use Cornell notes are somehow under the impression that by writing all this stuff, we'll somehow magically remember everything about the subject.  To those teachers who praise Cornell notes: If and when we study our Cornell notes, we do not study the essential question or the reflection, and we only pay attention to the cues when it's a vocabulary list.  We do not pay attention to questions.

     I suppose the point of them is that they're a better studying tool, or they help you focus while you're reading, or something of the like.  Maybe that works for some people, but for most of us, we don't care.  If we aren't paying close attention to what we're reading, we'll acknowledge that.  Taking Cornell notes doesn't automatically make us pay closer attention to whatever we're reading.

     And Cornell notes are not singular in their ability to help people study, if they help at all.  They certainly don't work for me.  My best way of taking notes is just to write down what I think is important.  It's as simple as that.  But no, apparently it's not good enough for me to take notes my way, I have to take them in a way that helps some people study.  In reality, I think teachers like it because it's more organized--not necessarily because they supposedly help people study.

     Some teachers will whine that if I'm not writing down questions while I read, I'm obviously not using my full thinking process.  Thing is, just because I'm not writing down questions doesn't mean I'm not asking them.  "Don't write down the whole thing word for word!  There's no point!  But there's apparently some really great reason for you to write down the questions you're asking yourself while reading."

     When I'm studying my notes, I don't look back at my questions for an answer.  I'll look at the answer.  If I wrote down that so-and-so's aggressive manner comes from a background of neglect, do you really think I care about the question I asked that was eventually answered?  No!  I only care about the answer!  And even if I did care about the question, how will my deep, pensive thoughts put into physical words help me at all on a test?  They won't, unless the test is entitled "Questions You Had While Reading This Book."

     When you're writing notes, you don't have to write down everything--or, at least, you shouldn't have to write down everything.  But, with Cornell notes, if you're not writing down cues for the answers or questions that you have while reading or a reflection on what you've learned, you apparently didn't learn anything and won't be able to study the correct information.

     Gosh flippin' dang it, it's the notes that matter!  And once you've drawn all the lines and you look at your box left for notes, it's not a terribly large box.  So then, you have to go to another page, and draw the exact same thing.  It's flipping ridiculous.

      If teachers realized that some people do fine taking notes my way, life would be easier.  I don't have to sift through what I've written to find out what I really wanted to write down.  I don't have to waste time making up questions that fit the "levels of questions" I've only heard talked about in regards to Cornell notes.  I don't have to feel forced into taking notes in a way that just does not work for me.  Not like the teachers care.

     Cornell notes have a place in this world, I'm sure...but it's not certainly not my notebook.  Some people love Cornell notes and are able to study their little hearts out with them.  I'm not one of them, and I know plenty of other people who agree.

     And I'm not saying that Cornell notes have been nothing but disadvantageous to me.  In my chemistry class last year, the teacher expected Cornell notes, but she didn't have a strict way of setting them up.  Questions weren't necessarily expected, and we didn't have to do a reflection.

     My English teacher from last year also expected us to do Cornell notes, and she had a very rigid way of setting them up.  But even that didn't bother me because the notes we took didn't have anything to do with testing material.  We didn't even really take tests in that class, and when we did, it was the basics of what we read.  We weren't depending on our Cornell notes for studying.

     It's the teachers who force us to take rigid Cornell notes and expect us to get wonderful grades from studying them who are the real problem.  I do not study well with Cornell notes.  I don't know if I can say that any louder.  But it doesn't matter, because I could flat-out scream in those teachers' faces about how useless they are to me, and they'd simply spit out their usual worship of the dead-awful notes.

     I know that some teachers think that the cookie-cutter way is the best way, but come on--even cookie cutters have different shapes.  It's fine if we're expected to take notes, it's fine if we're even graded on whether we took notes or not.  But I could never fully put into words the negative feelings I have towards teachers who inform us on the first day of school that "We're going to be using Cornell notes in this class."

     Well, that rant's over.  That was kind of fun, actually.

     I hope your day is as awesome as you.